Through The Gate
by Yellow Mask
Summary: NOW COMPLETE, epilogue added. Postmovie. Winry travels through the Gate and finds herself in London. But how is she supposed to make her way in a world with no automail, that is yet to hear of women’s rights? Later EdxWinry.
1. Into the Breach

**Through The Gate**

**By Yellow Mask**

**Spoilers:** Strong spoilers for the end of the movie.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FMA.

**Chapter 1**

**Into The Breach**

_AN: In the OVA "Hagaren Kids", one of Ed's grandchildren looked like Winry. So, of course, that got me thinking, how could Winry have ended up on the other side of the Gate? (Yes, I realise that Ed could have married her alternate self, but I choose to believe the Winry we all know and love went through the Gate somehow). So my musing spawned this story. It's going to be a Winry-by-herself adventure for the most part, but there will be EdWin at the end._

**oooooooo**

Sometimes, Winry wondered how she got herself into these predicaments. It was supposed to be a quiet trip to Central to see her friends, and it turned into an apocalyptic disaster engineered by a Gate-opening megalomaniac.

And of course, this guy had to do this at the train station. The train station! Of all places in Amestris, why would he use the train station?

From what she could gather from his ravings, he was trying to suck as many people as he could into a strange metaphysical doorway…something about equivalency.

All around her, people were panicking, growing ever more hysterical as more and more people were drawn into the yawning doorway. The screaming was growing deafening.

Winry fought the urge to run, and instead took a deep breath from where she was cowering behind the bench. Okay, calm…calm…she had to be calm. There was a crazy guy trying to get people killed in some bizarre gateway and undoubtedly using alchemy. She could worry about the plausibility of all this later – right now, it seemed like she was the only one in the whole place who realised he had to be stopped.

Well, she was probably wasn't the _only_ one who realised he had to be stopped, but it seemed she was the only one willing to do something about it.

Taking one last deep breath, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, and trying not to think about what it would be like to be dead, Winry clutched her tool box and stepped out from her cover.

He didn't notice her at first, too busy pouring over a journal in his hand. Winry threw caution to the winds and ran full-tilt at him, trying to tackle him away from the transmutation with sheer momentum. And she could figure out what to do next once she'd gotten him away from…from whatever it was that he was doing.

It nearly worked. Winry drove her shoulder into him at the same time as she smashed her heavy toolbox into the side of his head. The blow stunned him, and Winry tried to wrest the book from him. He fought back, and they staggered backwards…

And then black arms seized them, and dragged them into the doorway.

**oooooooo**

Winry realised she was falling. Falling through rain and fog, with the man beside her, cobbled streets rushing up to meet them…

She landed on top of the man with a heavy thud that jarred the breath from her body. His head smacked against the ground with an ugly crack and he went still. Her entire body ached, and she suspected she'd broken her ankle, but Winry struggled to her feet anyway, tensed for a fight.

Only to find she needn't have bothered. The force of their fall had broken the man's skull like an empty eggshell. Feeling bile rising in her throat at the sight, Winry turned away, breathing heavily.

He was dead. And she hadn't even known his name or what he was doing. But then again...he _had_ been a murderer. He'd probably killed all those people at the train station. And yet, to have died for it...

Her regret over the nameless man didn't last long, and her concerns shifted as to where she was. She had been hauled into a strange doorway, and somehow ended up somewhere that was very different to Central's train station.

Grimacing in disgust, Winry pulled the leather-bound book from the man's nerveless fingers and flicked it open, hoping to find a clue as to where she was.

No clue was forthcoming, but the words printed on the first page were astounding enough.

_Property of Edward Elric._

This was Ed's journal?

Winry didn't have any time to ponder that thought, as voices began to drift through the fog. Instinctively wanting to avoid being found with a dead body, Winry began to limp painfully away, trusting the grey cloud to swallow her.

**oooooooo**

Eventually, the pain in her ankle forced her to stop, leaning against the wall of a building for support. From the sounds inside, she guessed it was some kind of bar. The sign on the wall read; _'The Whistling Pig. Home of London's finest pork.'_

The rain had soaked Winry's clothes and skin, and her hair was plastered to her shoulders. She shivered, suddenly aware of the biting cold. Her toolbox was clutched in one hand, held so tightly the knuckles bleached. Her other arm held Ed's journal against her chest

"What's going on?" she whispered.

Her only answer was the soft swishing sound of the rain. Tiny droplets clung to her eyelashes like tears.

Fear and uncertainty rose within her like a cresting wave, and Winry threw her head back and yelled to the barren sky.

"_WHERE AM I?_"


	2. Mirror Images

**Chapter 2**

**Mirror Images**

Winry stayed motionless for a long time, listening to the laughter from inside the bar. She had to calm down, she had to think!

She'd been hurled...somewhere...through some strange, alchemical gateway...

Wait! Hadn't Colonel Mustang said something about a world beyond the Gate? A world that Ed and Al had returned to?

_'Oh...no way,'_ Winry thought, shaking her head. _'There is just no way!'_

She looked back up at the sign, proclaiming 'London's finest pork'.

_'London?'_

"No freaking way!" Winry whispered, as though saying it aloud would somehow solidify her denial. "Not possible!"

_'But,'_ a snarky voice in her mind piped up. _'Ed and Al did it, didn't they?'_

Her vision whirled, and for a second, Winry was certain she was going to pass out.

_'Breathe,'_ she coached herself, sitting down in a puddle and soaking her legs. _'Deep breaths, just don't think about it...'_

But she couldn't _not _think about it. She had ended up in another world! Another world!

Disbelief was swiftly followed by terror, and a gut-wrenching uncertainty. What happened now? Where could she go? What could she do?

Winry pushed away the urge to cry. She could do this, she just needed to take it one step at a time.

First, her injuries.

It hurt to breathe, but it was a constant, dull ache that made Winry think of bruised ribs. She explored the flexible bones gingerly, but found none broken. Her ankle she was not so optimistic about, but as she flexed it, she became convinced it wasn't even sprained. She'd probably just stretched a tendon or something. It would hurt like crazy for a few hours, but was nothing that could cause permanent damage.

Her next problem; it was raining, it was cold, and she had nowhere to go.

**oooooooo **

"Listen, whore, give me your money, and I won't have to get nasty."

Half-limping through the pouring rain, soaked and shivering, Winry's first thought was that she was hearing things. Then she spotted the man in the overhang of a shop, towering over a woman and child. She could barely see his two victims, he had pressed them both up against the wall so tightly.

Winry felt her ire rise. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was bullies.

And without a thought to the consequences, Winry stuffed Ed's journal in her toolbox, and pulled out her wrench.

"HEY!" she bellowed, running up behind the man. "Pick on someone your own size!"

The man whirled, revealing a sharp knife clutched in one hand. Winry's eyes landed on the blade – raindrops pinging off its surface – and felt her heart sink.

_'One of these days,'_ she thought in resignation, _'I'm going to learn to stop trying to be a hero.'_

Well, she was in deep now, and she'd have to be the one to get herself out of it.

"Girl, are you blind or just stupid?" the mammoth in front of her asked blankly. "I've got the knife, that means _you_ listen to _me_."

"I don't think so," Winry shot back, shifting her weight, wondering how hard she'd have to hit the guy to knock him out. "And for your information, I'm not blind, and I'm certainly not as stupid as you look."

The man's face twisted, his lips lifting in a primal snarl. Winry felt a bolt of fear at the sight, but ruthlessly pushed it down.

_'Keep goading him,'_ she told herself. _'Get him angry, get him stupid.'_

"You have about two seconds to get running," he growled.

"Oh, and who would run from you? I've seen toddlers scarier than you!" Winry snorted with a confidence she did not feel.

With a roar of rage, he lunged for her. Winry darted aside like a dragonfly across a pond, her rain slicked hair spraying water into her attacker's face as she whipped around...

To find him nearly on top of her. The blade rose, slashing down towards her throat, and there was no room to do anything but try to scramble backwards...

Winry recognised how lucky she was to have stepped into a puddle at that exact instant. Her foot slipped, her injured ankle folded, and she fell. Instead of opening her jugular veins, the knife bit into her chest, spilling blood onto her shirt.

Winry swung her wrench with her usual devastating aim. She caught the man on the side of the head, knocking him to the ground. He blinked, looking dazed. A look that swiftly disappeared when she hit him again. His eyes closed, and he slumped to the ground, clearly unconscious.

"Jerk!" Winry spat, dropping her wrench back into the toolbox and trying to put pressure her injury.

The knife had opened a V-shaped gash on the curve of her right breast. It was about three inches long, and by the amount of blood dripping from her already-saturated shirt, it was probably fairly deep. It seared like a line of fire.

"Oh God, you're bleeding!"

Winry raised her eyes from the red stain spreading across her clothes at an alarming rate, catching the eyes of the woman she'd just saved.

And she gaped. The woman gasped as well, stumbling backwards.

They could have been identical twins. Winry's eyes took in the woman's features – features that she saw in the mirror everyday. The same straw-yellow hair, if cut to a slightly different length, the same sky-blue eyes and pale skin.

"You look just like me," Winry breathed, mouth agape.

But then a warm trickle of blood on her stomach brought her attention back to the wound. She could deal with the weird mirror image woman later, right now she had to treat her injury or she would be in serious trouble. The rate at which it was bleeding made her medical mind wonder if she'd been cut deep enough to nick a few veins.

"But you're hurt!" the woman exclaimed, dropping to her knees beside Winry. "Big help I am – you got injured helping us and I'm too hung up on the way you look to give you a hand."

She ripped a long strip of cloth from her dress and placed it against the wound, using the additional pressure from her hands to try and stem the flow of blood. When it began to slow, she looked up at Winry.

"I'm Wendy, by the way," she said, giving a tight smile.

"Winry."

"And this is Eddie," Wendy offered, nodding towards the child behind her.

Winry looked...and felt her eyes nearly pop out for the second time that day. Wendy's son looked like a miniature version of Ed, from bronzed hair and golden eyes to stubborn chin.

She became aware that Wendy had continued talking.

"...a sticky situation, and I'm so glad you came along. I don't what would have happened if you hadn't – well, that's not exactly true, I know exactly what would have happened. But really, thank you very much."

Winry gave a tremulous smile. "Don't worry about it. I hate bullies - most people would have done the same."

"That's where you're wrong," Wendy countered. "Most people would have walked right by. But you stopped and helped us. And got injured into the bargain. If there's anyway I can help you-"

"Well, actually," Winry cut in, gritting her teeth against the rush of pain in her ankle as she stood. "Do you know anyplace where I can stay?"

Wendy's eyes widened. "You're homeless?"

_'Okay,'_ Winry coached herself. _'Options. Lie, and tell her some half-assed story you come up with on the spot? Tell the truth, and have her think you're a lunatic? Or...something in between?'_

Taking a deep breath, Winry chose the last option. "Homeless? Kinda. You see, I...this is going to sound stupid and crazy, but I...I don't know where I am. The last thing I remember is being in a train station..._very_ far away from here...and then, I just woke up on the street a few blocks away. I guess...I guess I must have lost part of my memory, or something..."

She felt guilty about lying, but still tried to put as much honest bewilderment into her voice as she could. To her relief, sympathy flooded Wendy's face. She believed her, she was going to help her!

"Well, it isn't much...but you could stay with us," Wendy offered, wiping her bloody fingers on her dress before taking Eddie's hand.

"What do you think, Eddie?" she addressed the child. "We'd like to have Winry staying with us, wouldn't we?"

"Yeah," the little boy bobbed his head. "The way you knocked that guy down was so cool!"

Winry was a little surprised at how articulate he was. He couldn't have been more than four years old.

She realised Wendy was waiting for her reply, the other woman looking distinctly nervous.

"Thank you so much," Winry's heartfelt gratitude wasn't a lie in the slightest.

Wendy beamed. "Come with us."

**oooooooo**

_AN: Just to clear up the timeline: I'm saying that Ed was 15 during the anime, and the movie occurred 2 years later, making him 17. My story is set a little over a year after the movie's conclusion, which makes Winry 18. As for the kid that looks just like Ed, it will all become clear soon, I promise._


	3. Wendy

**Chapter 3**

**Wendy**

_AN: Some unpleasant concepts in this chapter, but I was trying to make this environment of early 1900's London seem realistic. Mention of prostitution._

**oooooooo**

"I'll be out tonight, so you can have the bed," Wendy smiled, arranging the covers neatly.

Winry looked around. Wendy had led her to a small, run-down house in a grubby backstreet. Then she had led her into the cellar. Apparently, the owners rented the tiny space to her.

And 'tiny' might be giving it too much credit. There two small beds in one corner, a small sink and a toilet shielded from the rest of the room by a sheet. A table and a cupboard on the other side of the room, with barely enough room to walk between them and the beds.

Still, Winry thought she might cry from sheer relief.

"Your clothes are soaking," Wendy murmured, plucking at the sodden material. "Come on, I'll lend you some of mine."

A small pallet was pulled from beneath one of the beds, and Winry was surprised to realise that folded clothes were stacked on top of it. Wendy handed her some, and Winry couldn't run behind the toilet curtain fast enough. She shed her sopping clothes, leaving wet patches on the floor, and sighed with the happiness of feeling dry cloth against her skin. The deep slash on her chest still dripped blood, but she wrung the water out of her shirt and used it as a bandage.

When she stepped out, Wendy was putting Eddie to bed. The boy was yawning profusely, yet still protesting that he wasn't tired, and did she really have to go to work?

Wendy handled him with surprising patience, stroking his golden hair and telling him a story until he fell asleep.

With a fond smile, Wendy stood. "I don't have to work for another half an hour, but it's best to get him settled now."

"How old is he?" Winry asked.

"Three."

Winry raised her eyebrows. "He seems very articulate for a three year old."

"Well, he's very smart. Takes after his father in that respect, my husband was quite the scholar."

"Husband?"

"You're surprised?"

"Well, it's just...I didn't think you were much older than me..."

"I'm eighteen, and we married rather young."

Her voice was wistful, and slightly strained. She sounded sad – did her husband die? Winry decided to steer the conversation away from that topic as quickly as she could.

"I'm eighteen too," she said, as though the whole point of the conversation had been to learn Wendy's age.

Wendy smiled. "Well, you can see where the toilet and the sink are, and the cupboard holds most of our belongings. As for cooking, we share a kitchen with Mrs. Ryini – she's the owner. Our food is in the top section of the cupboard, make yourself at home."

"Actually, I kind of ate beforehand." And it was a miracle she didn't puke it up again after her little trip through time and space.

"Oh, well, never mind about the stove then. I'll come back at about eight tomorrow, so you can have the bed until then-"

Wendy paused. "It just occurred to me that I'm trusting a woman I only met a few hours ago with my home, my food, and my son. But it doesn't..."

"It doesn't seem odd?" Winry supplied. "I know what you mean. It's like...I don't know...it's like I've always known you, but I've only just _met_ you. Does that make sense?"

"Not a bit," Wendy grinned. "But I'm feeling the same thing, so we must both be nutcases."

"We'll shake on it," Winry joked. "I, Winry Sara Rockbell, do hereby vow to be a fellow nutcase with Wendy in our totally unfounded trust of each other."

Wendy mimicked her. "I, Wendy Sarah Enrick, do hereby vow to be a fellow nutcase with Winry in our totally unfounded trust of each other."

They made it that long with straight faces before they doubled over with the effort of trying to keep their laughter quiet. That last thing they needed to do was wake up Eddie.

"See you when you wake up," Wendy whispered, slipping up the stairs.

Winry sighed as she settled down in the sheets. Her toolbox, with Ed's journal tucked inside, had been dumped at the foot of the bed. Eddie's soft, steady breathing provided the rhythm that lulled her into unconsciousness.

**oooooooo **

Winry carefully avoided the rickety stair as she descended into the basement. Her throat was sore, but she was pleased that it was far less sore than it had been the first day. Her vocal chords were adapting to the unaccustomed strain.

"Auntie Win, Auntie Win!" Eddie yelled, slamming into her mid-section like a small cannonball, his arms wrapping around her waist as far as he could reach.

"Hey, Eddie, did you feed the squirrels today?"

He pouted. "No. We saw some squirrels, but they ran away, and Mummy wouldn't let me climb the tree after them."

Winry shared a smile with Wendy over Eddie's head. "And it was a good thing she did. What if you fell?"

"I never!"

Winry chuckled, shucking her coat (originally Wendy's spare), and counting the change from the pockets.

She had been here for about three months. She had lived with Wendy and Eddie, staying with him at night while Wendy worked, and making some money during the day herself, in an effort to contribute to the general upkeep of their little home.

And it had indeed become home in a surprisingly short amount of time. There were moments when she would find herself almost physically sick in longing for Pinako, for her friends back in Amestris, but she had become so close to Wendy it was, quite frankly, almost ludicrous. Considering that she'd known her for only a few months, yet already Winry found herself trusting her more than Nelly, who she'd known since childhood. She'd never experienced this sort of instant kinship before.

In fact, Wendy was more like a sister than a friend.

_Yes,'_ Winry reflected. _'I think I definitely fell on my feet here, at least, as much as it's possible in this world.'_

At first, she'd tried to peddle her skills as a mechanic, and quickly learned about this world's attitude towards women. No one would have anything to do with her, believing that because she was a female, she was automatically inferior.

Winry had been frustrated, yes, and angry – hadn't they ever heard of equal rights? But raging about it did her little good, so she'd resorted to the only other means of income available to her. Street-performing.

She knew next to nothing about magic tricks and sleight-of-hand, and in dancing she had about as much rhythm as a one-legged dog having an epileptic fit. But her voice was pretty good. So she learned a few basic songs, and gone out on the streets, singing with a upturned hat next to her feet. She made some money, not much, but enough to make a significant contribution to their income. And she was working on expanding her repertoire.

And while she was working, Wendy was at home. Sleeping firstly, and then later in the afternoon she would go out with Eddie, before coming back to the basement and teaching her son. Even with Winry's input, they didn't make enough money to send him to school, but between the two of them, they could give him a pretty well-rounded education. Winry dealt with physics and biology, and she had a working knowledge of mathematics and chemistry. Wendy taught him spelling, grammar, writing skills, history and geography.

While Eddie was being educated by Wendy and Winry, Winry was receiving her own education about the world she'd dropped into. She was learning about the streets of London, about England, and countries of Europe. She often wondered where Ed and Al had been dropped into. It wasn't London – she'd asked around, as discreetly as possible, and she was fairly certain that there were no Elrics living anywhere near here. So where were they?

"Still sore?" Wendy asked as Winry swallowed, massaging her throat.

"Only a little. I never sang all day long before I came here. It's taking a while, but the vocal chords are adapting."

"Are we having dinner now?" Eddie piped up. "You said we'd have dinner when Auntie Win got back."

Eddie had dubbed her 'Auntie Win' in about the second week of their living arrangements.

"Yes, we're having dinner now. We've got potatoes, leeks, onions...anyone for soup?"

Both Winry and Eddie nodded.

Wendy smiled, and walked up the stairs to the kitchen. "Ah, vegetable soup, the dinner of the cheap yet cultured."

And in her time with them, Winry had also learned about Wendy and Eddie.

**oooooooo**

Wendy had been born a bastard, that is, a child out of wedlock. The result of a lord's brief indiscretion with a mistress. Her father had never shown an ounce of interest in her, and her mother had died giving birth to her. She'd been raised by her grandmother, living in London. That was when she met Edward Enrick.

They'd been friends from almost the start, but Wendy told Winry it soon developed into something more. But his parents forbid him to have anything to do with her, saying that he would have an inheritance when they died, and they weren't going to see him waste his life by becoming tangled up with some lord's bastard daughter.

But Edward Enrick hadn't cared. He and Wendy were in love, and nothing in the world was going to stand in their way.

He persuaded Wendy to elope with him, saying that if they went to the country and married, by the time his parents found out, it would be too late. So, they'd left late one night, and arrived in the countryside by morning. An old priest had been located and swiftly persuaded to marry them. And at fifteen years old, Wendy Rackdell became Wendy Enrick.

They'd spent almost four months in a small holiday house, before Ed received a letter from his father, saying that his mother had died. Ed had returned to London, and she'd heard briefly that his father was trying to reconcile with him. It was as though Hohenheim were a totally different person, to be frank. Then Ed had been killed when a zeppelin fell on him. Leaving Wendy widowed...and pregnant.

So, she had returned to London, only to find Ed's father had disappeared as well. Wendy had gone to her grandmother, confessing the brief marriage and the resulting pregnancy. She'd been forgiven and taken it once more.

Then her grandmother died (Winry was beginning to learn this world had a high mortality rate), and Wendy had absolutely nowhere to go. No one would employ a woman with a child, and Wendy had been left with only one option to feed her growing son.

Prostitution.

Winry tried not to judge, tried to understand that a woman would stoop to almost anything to feed her children, but every time Wendy said she was going to 'work' she couldn't help cringing. What kind of world would force a teenage mother to sell her body to keep food on the table?

The world she was in now, apparently.

And in spite of her success so far, Winry wasn't sure she could survive in it.


	4. The Virgin

**Chapter 4**

**The Virgin**

Winry squared her shoulders, and walked boldly into The Songbird's interior, struggling to ignore the leers and jeering comments she attracted. She could do this, she could do this...

She strolled right up to the bar and flagged down the man Wendy had pointed out to her. Though the first time she'd seen him, she had to restrain herself from shouting 'Mr. Havoc!', remembering the chain-smoker who worked with Ed. James Takect, owner and operator of The Songbird, a house of drinking, gambling and women. He approached her, tilting a glass in her direction, but Winry shook her head. She wasn't here for a drink.

She was here for a job.

The police had been arresting a lot of the street-performers lately. For what, Winry didn't know, but she'd had some narrow escapes. She wasn't stupid – she knew she had to find another job, and fast. Wendy had mentioned that the manager of her work was looking for a new card dealer, so Winry had promptly recieved an education in how to cut, shuffle and deal cards in every game Wendy could teach her.

And now she was going to apply for the job.

"What're you looking for, honey?"

Shoving down her irritation at the pet name, Winry spoke "My name's _Winry_, and I'm looking for a job."

**oooooooo**

She got the job. Fortunately, James had been the type who respected a woman with strength.

"Good to see a gal with a mind of her own!" he'd roared after an interview with her, then lowered his voice, "But I gotta ask, you sure you and Wendy aren't twins?"

Winry had laughed and said, yes, she was very sure.

He'd had one condition, though. Winry was learning that in this world, any gambling house that wanted to make money cheated at cards, and it was the dealer who had to do the cheating. But to do so without raising suspicion, they needed a distraction. Something about their physical appearance which drew the player's attention to _them_, rather than the cards. Some wore fake eye patches, others applied false scars or blackened out teeth.

James was adamant that Winry's distraction should be a low-cut gown. Normally comfortable with her body, Winry felt reluctant to display her souvenir of the encounter with the would-be mugger. She told him the white, V-shaped scar had been gained in an accident with a scythe, and explained why she didn't want to work in a low-cut dress.

But James's eyes had lit up. "Christ Almighty! That'll be a distraction, alright!"

And Winry had been forced to concede. But James had offered her half of any increased takes in exchange ("You'll be a draw girl, just see if I'm wrong"). Winry knew that was really half of nothing, but had accepted it anyway.

As it turned out, she was wrong.

The Virgin, as she became known because of the scar on her breast, had drawn customers as open honey drew flies. Her looks were appealing, her voice was sweet and her cool attitude bewildering. She was a mystery, plain and simple, and her unavailability was a challenge in a house where almost every woman could be had at a price.

The sudden increase in her and Wendy's collective funds had financed Eddie's official schooling at last, and paid for a move to a small apartment with better furnishings. In short, things were looking up, and Winry was pleasantly surprised.

**oooooooo**

"You okay?" Winry asked as Wendy came through the door with a flurry of snow and an explosion of coughing.

"Fine," she rasped, "Just a bit chilly out there."

"Well I hope you're ready for our birthday cake," Winry grinned, producing the cake with a flourish.

"Mummy!" Eddie yelled, skidding on the wooden floor he ran in so fast. "Auntie Win said we could eat the cake when you came back!"

Wendy laughed, hugging her son tightly.

"Get over here people, or I'll eat it all," Winry threatened, knife poised to cut the cake.

Eddie scrambled to the table, almost leaping onto the chair in his eagerness. Winry cut the cake, distributing generous pieces onto each of the three plates.

It had been eight months since Winry had landed in this world. And this very day, they were celebrating two birthdays – hers and Wendy's, both women turning nineteen.

While Winry felt a pang of nostalgia for her friends and family at home, she was determined to be optimistic about this. After all, Wendy and Eddie were hardly dull party guests, and this was Wendy's birthday as well.

Winry grinned at her 'sister' over their plates. "Happy Birthday, Wendy!"

She smiled back. "Happy Birthday, Winry!"

They raised their glasses and clinked them together over the table.

"Me too!" Eddie insisted, raising his glass, "Happy Birthday Mummy and Auntie Win!"

Another round of laughter and another set of loud clinks as the glasses were driven together.

"Still," Wendy gasped out after she'd drained her cup, "Who would have thought we'd have the same birthday, on top of everything else?" She shook her head. "I could swear you're my twin sister, given away at birth!"

Winry snorted. "It's weird isn't it?"

"Very much so."

"Can I have some more, please," Eddie broke in, interrupting their conversation, holding out his empty plate.

"You must be a bottomless pit, kid," Winry said admiringly, "That's the only way to explain where you're putting it all."

Wendy was smiling fondly as she cut Eddie another slice of cake. "Not too much, okay? Or the sugar will keep you up all night, and there's school tomorrow."

"I won't eat too much," Eddie promised, already devouring his new piece.

"I suppose he gets that from his father?" Winry asked, gesturing at the young boy.

Wendy simply nodded sagely.

**oooooooo**

Later, when Eddie was tucked into bed and they were settling down for the night, Wendy turned to Winry, with a serious expression on her face.

"Winry...there's something I've been meaning to ask you, but I'm quite sure how to say it."

"Just spit it out," Winry shrugged, sitting cross-legged on her bed.

Wendy still looked unsure.

"I promise not to bite your head off."

"Well, I was just wondering..."

Wendy took a deep breath. Winry didn't push anymore, feeling anxious about what she was about to say.

"I...you didn't lose your memory, did you?"

For a heartbeat, raw panic screamed across Winry's mind. Then it tapered off, replaced by acceptance. She'd always wondered how long that story was going to hold up.

"You're right, I didn't," she stated simply, looking right into Wendy's eyes. Letting her know she was being honest this time.

Wendy nodded. "I knew it. There's just something about you, Win...you can just tell. It's like you don't belong in this world...you're too cheerful, too kind for you to have grown up here...so I was just wondering...where did you grow up?"

"You'll laugh at me...you'll think I'm crazy."

Wendy looked hurt. "Win...I would never laugh about something as serious as where you came from...please...tell me?"

Winry took a deep breath, silently prayed her 'sister' wouldn't think she was a nutcase, and prepared to tell Wendy the whole story.


	5. Anniversary

**Chapter 5**

**Anniversary**

When Winry was finished, she didn't dare look Wendy in the eye. She heard her 'sister' heave a huge sigh, and bit her lip.

"Well, I'd say it's lucky you found us, then."

Winry's eyes shot to hers. "Y-you believe me?"

"I'm not saying it doesn't sound fantastic, or ridiculous...but...this sounds crazy, but it explains a lot. I always wondered why you looked so much like me, why you never acted like any of the people here..."

Wendy's words were cut off as she coughed again.

"I told you that if you wandered out in the rain, you'd catch something," Winry scolded. "Get some sleep!"

"Yes, ma'am," Wendy chuckled, giving a mock-salute.

**oooooooo**

But Wendy's illness didn't leave. She was still coughing two months on, when they celebrated Eddie's fourth birthday. They picnicked in the park, and watched Eddie coax the squirrels to eat nuts from his hand. And even bundled up in three layers of pure warmth, Wendy still coughed.

It fluctuated – she'd cough severely for several days, it would calm down for several days, then return with a vengeance. They managed to pay for a visit to the doctor, but there was little he could do.

Winry was desperately worried. In her time here she had learnt that the medical treatments in this world left something to be desired. Here, people died from the flu, and any infection could be fatal.

She just hoped Wendy would get better soon.

**oooooooo**

"Looking for a good time, sweetheart?"

Winry fought the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust, concentrating on keeping her face expressionless as she walked to The Songbird. It was raining, she'd forgotten her coat, Wendy had been coughing too much to even get out of bed, and the last thing she needed was some jerk to make her day worse. But the drag of less-than-sober feet behind her told her the man wasn't easily discouraged.

"Come on, pretty little thing like you...not safe to be walking alone..."

_'Chauvinistic pig!'_ Winry seethed silently. _'Assuming I'd need your protection...'_

"Hey, sweetheart, I'm talking to you!"

A hand snatched at her shoulder and Winry whipped around, dislodging the grip and coming face to face with a large, heavy-set man who reeked of beer.

_'Charming.'_

"Stop following me!" Winry barked. "And if you touch me again, I'll break your wrist, do you understand?"

"I like 'em feisty..."

Winry rolled her eyes, and turned to go.

He grabbed her shoulder again, wrinkling the fabric of her dress. "Hey, we're not done here!"

Winry whirled, one hand coming up to close over his wrist. In one smooth movement, she yanked his arm downwards, adding an upward twist of her hand, forcing his arm and hand in opposing directions...

The bones beneath her hand cracked.

The man howled, stumbling back, his other hand cradling his wrist against his chest. "You broke my wrist!"

Winry shrugged, already walking away. "Can't say I didn't warn you."

Strange...she actually felt a little better.

_'In the vast world of anger management, nothing works so well as a bit of violence.'_

**oooooooo**

"The lovely lady has arrived!"

Winry smiled. Roy Chenang had been hired on shortly after her, as a second card dealer. With one look, Winry had known that this was obviously this world's answer to Roy Mustang. The same appearance, same manner, same basic personality...even his 'distraction' was a false eye patch.

"How's it going, Roy?"

"Much better now you're here," he purred suggestively.

Winry couldn't help but giggle. Though both knew they would never act on anything, Roy's playful flirting always managed to lift her spirits.

"Oh? And how could my presence mysteriously brighten your day?"

"To be fair, I am looking at the most beautiful woman in this house..." he gave an over-dramatic sigh. "And the only one who holds my heart..."

Winry couldn't resist teasing him a little. So she focused her gaze over his shoulder, and waved.

"Hi, Liza."

Roy spun around, and Winry laughed as his eyes scanned the room for Elizabeth Falcon, the alternate version of Riza Hawkeye. When he realised the attractive blonde in charge of the bar wasn't in the room, he turned back to Winry, who was struggling to contain her laughter.

"The only one in your heart, huh?"

Roy frowned. "That was mean."

"It was," Winry conceded. "But somehow, I'm not in the least repentant."

The day James had hired Elizabeth – or 'Liza' – to oversee the bar, Winry had practically been able to smell the crackle of attraction between her and Roy. Liza's job was to pour the drinks and send the serving girls on the rounds. She also had to keep the drunks in line, which for her, wasn't too difficult, once they'd learned the kind of power she could put into a slap and how accurate her aim was. Anyone being too rowdy could find themselves on the receiving end of a thick tin cup hurled like a bullet from a gun.

Winry was jerked out of her thoughts when the door to the supply room banged open. Liza strode in, already lining up the various bottles of alcohol.

"Hello, Winry," she smiled, "Ready for work?"

"As always," Winry muttered.

She fiddled with her dress, releasing the hidden clasp that secured the front of it. The neckline dropped, plunging sharply towards her navel, both sides meeting just under her breasts, the white, V-shaped scar of her namesake easily displayed. Roy pulled on his false eye patch, and they split up, heading towards their respective tables, while Liza began to clean some of the cups at the bar.

**oooooooo**

"Feeling lucky, sir?" Winry winked as the man in front of her placed a hefty wad of cash on the table.

Once, she couldn't have pictured herself like this – using her 'feminine wiles' to lure in customers. But she had swiftly learned that this was the way to earn her paycheck. And now, she could achieve a sense of detachment from her actions – the way she imagined an actor in a play would.

Taking a brief break from the tables, she deliberately brushed past Roy on her way to the bar.

"Eyes on the table, Roy, not boring holes in some poor drunk's back," Winry murmured under her breath as she passed him.

She'd noticed the scorching looks Roy had been throwing towards the bar, concentrated on the inebriated man obviously attempting to flirt with Liza. If the look on her face was anything to go by, she was less than impressed.

Winry slid onto her stool, smiling at the older woman's clear exasperation. "Could you give me some water, Liza?"

"Sure thing, Winry."

Winry sipped the cool liquid, moistening her parched throat. "You know, Liza," she began, a note of cunning in her voice. "Roy's been staring at you all day."

"Huh?" Liza's eyes flicked towards Roy's table.

As though sensing he was caught, the dark-haired man snapped his head back towards his cards.

Liza blinked in surprise. "What does he want?"

"Well, he saw that guy flirting with you...I think he was jealous."

Winry saw Liza's eyes light up for a split second, before she looked away from the female dealer. "Why? God knows, he has enough women hanging off his arm...why would he be jealous of me?"

Winry drank her water and hid her smile.

**oooooooo**

Winry stretched out on the bed, yawning. She was tired, and with another yawn, she prepared to flip over and fall asleep...

Her hand fumbled on the nightstand, and knocked something onto the floor.

Sitting up, Winry retrieved Ed's journal from the floor, idly flicking through it. She'd read through it, of course...for all the good that had done her. It had to be written in some kind of code – that was the only explanation she could come up with for the apparently random collection of names and words sprinkled across each page.

Some she recognised, some she didn't. It seemed that Ed's code was comprised of the names of places, of objects...and of people.

Winry had been surprised to see her own name appearing in the book. She'd tried to puzzle it out – what had Ed used her name to represent? Eventually, she'd come to the conclusion that her name must be some sort of code for his automail – there was nothing else that made sense.

So Ed had used her name to refer to his automail...but what about the others?

With a soft sigh, Winry ran her fingers across the ink-stained pages one last time. Then she shut the book, placing it reverently on the bedside table before dousing the lamp, pulling the blankets over herself, and closing her eyes.

**oooooooo**

When Winry woke up, she knew something was important about today, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Flipping through her mental calendar, she still came up blank. Eddie's birthday was past. Wendy's birthday was past – as was her own. Liza and Roy's engagement party was next week...

At that thought, Winry allowed herself a slight smile.

It had been four months since she'd caught Roy acting jealous, however slightly, over Liza. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what had been the catalyst for their relationship, but supposed it didn't really matter. They were engaged now. Winry had learnt that in this world, engagements happened very early in the relationship, but felt no real concerns. They just seemed so...right.

Finally, when she plodded into the kitchen and checked the real calendar, it hit her. This was her anniversary.

She'd been in this world for one year.

**oooooooo**

"You okay?" Liza asked as Winry stared at her glass of water, her eyes distant.

"Fine...just thinking..."

"You sure there's nothing wrong?"

"Why would you think something's wrong?"

"Maybe because James came in the back door, and has been trying to wave you over to him for the last five minutes?"

Winry's head snapped up. Sure enough, the owner of The Songbird was gesturing frantically at her. She slid off her stool and went to him.

"What's the matter? You could have just walked up to me..." Winry's voice when she saw the look in James's eyes.

"I wanted to speak to you privately..." James bit his lip, and Winry sucked in a breath when she realised he looked on the verge of crying.

"What's wrong?"

"Winry...Wendy's dead."


	6. Bitter Winter

**Chapter 6**

**Bitter Winter**

Winry stared at the casket as it was lowered into the ground, the clods of dirt slowly obscuring the polished wood from view.

Eddie's face was buried in her skirt as they stood beside the grave, and Winry's arms had been holding him so long they were going numb.

She felt numb herself. As though nothing had registered yet...some part of her expected Wendy to turn up any minute, asking what they were all doing at a funeral.

Eventually, Winry turned away, picked Eddie up in her arms, and started the long walk home.

**oooooooo**

The house seemed far too quiet. Though Winry knew, logically, that Wendy had never really contributed to the volume of the household, it still felt strange to have a house that had sheltered three people, suddenly sheltering two.

She stared dully at the ceiling, wondering dimly how everything in her life always seemed to go wrong. Why was everyone she loved taken from her at one time or another?

Slowly, she reached out to her bedside table, pulling Ed's journal close to her. She flipped it open, pulling out the pictures that she'd slipped between the pages for safe-keeping. The first was of her and Wendy, smiling brightly at the camera. The next was of all three of them, smiling and waving.

Winry found herself giving a sad, hicupping giggle. She flipped through more, letting herself get lost in the past.

Eddie chased squirrels while Wendy watched and laughed. All three pulled faces at the camera. Wendy sat on a bench by a river, mocking the pose in a famous painting. Eddie held a small beetle he'd caught in the park. Eddie was perched on Winry's shoulders, pointing at a bird overhead. Wendy and Eddie dozed on the sofa, half-listening to the radio. Winry and Wendy, dressed exactly alike, stood side by side, with identical expressions of amusement on their faces.

Winry managed a short laugh. She remembered that day. Wendy had insisted on having that picture taken, the picture in which no one could ever tell them apart.

"_Keep it, Winry," she whispered conspiratorially. "You know what they say about identical twins, after all."_

"_No, I don't," Winry said, a little bewildered._

"_That their true love will be able to tell them apart."_

"_So let me get this straight...if I show this picture to a guy, he'll be able to tell which one is me if he's in love with me?"_

"_Exactly."_

"_Wendy, I love you like a sister, but sometimes you're just plain crazy."_

"_You can say that again!"_

A soft sniffle alerted her to another's presence in the room. Her eyes snapped up. Eddie was standing in the doorway, both hands clutching a stuffed teddy, his eyes wet.

"A-Auntie Win?" he stammered, taking a hesitant step into the room.

Winry set the journal aside, and opened her arms. "Come here, kid."

He dove across the room like a champion swimmer into a pool. The force knocked Winry back into the pillows, but she didn't even flinch. Her arms wound around the small body that was shaking against her, and her fingers combed through his hair soothingly. One hand groped for the blankets, pulling the warm layers of fabric over both of them.

Eddie was quiet for several moments,only the occasional shudder rippling through him. Winry didn't move, even when she felt the dampness on her neck where his face was hidden in her hair.

"It's okay," she whispered, feeling tears of her own leaking over her cheeks to leave wet circles on the pillow. "It's okay..."

**oooooooo**

It had been two months since Wendy's death, and now Winry was the maid of honour at Liza and Roy's wedding. They'd apologized at first, for setting the date so soon after such a tragedy, but Winry understood. Death around you made you treasure your life all the more, and Liza and Roy had apparently decided they didn't want to spend another moment away from each other.

Winry was pleased. At least some people in this world were capable of achieving happiness.

When the priest pronounced them man and wife, Winry's face was stretched into her first genuine smile since the funeral.

**oooooooo**

Winry sipped the champagne at the reception, smiling softly. Eddie sat on her lap, finishing a thick slice of fruit cake. He was no sooner licking his fingers clean than he was eyeing the half-finished slice on her plate.

"Auntie Win...could I have some of yours?"

"Have the whole thing."

Eddie didn't need to be told twice, and Winry felt another smile pulling at her lips as he devoured his second slice. He was so resilient. Smiling and laughing only months after his mother's death.

And eating like a pig, but Winry figured it might be genetic – Ed had stuffed himself every chance he got, it made sense alternate Ed would have been the same.

But Winry still felt a swell of almost maternal pride for Eddie.

A touch on her shoulder made her turn around. Liza was behind her, clad in her floor-length white dress. Winry didn't think the older woman had stopped smiling once throughout the entire night. Hers was a soft, contented smile, quite different from the broad, 'I cannot believe I am this lucky' grin that Roy had been sporting.

"Well, at least someone likes the cake," she said, gesturing to Eddie.

Winry snorted. "Oh, I like it fine, but it's a tad too rich for me."

"Doesn't seem to bother him."

"Nope. Our own bottomless pit, right here." Winry ruffled Eddie's hair affectionately.

"By the way," she added, turning to half-face Liza. "We're probably going to head home – I have a feeling Eddie will want to sleep off his feast very soon now."

Liza smiled, and even walked outside to wave them off. Winry thought the silver band on her finger looked rather fetching in the light from the street lamp.

**oooooooo**

Winry had been right – Eddie collapsed into his bed almost instantly, exhausted.

"Get some sleep," Winry whispered to him. "We had a big day."

She was tired herself, but she knew there were chores to be done before she went to sleep. She pulled their clothes from the drying line, checking to make sure every last drop of water was gone, before she folded them away. Plates and cutlery were rinsed and scrubbed – even though they hadn't eaten dinner at home, there was still the breakfast and lunch dishes to deal with. And then she tackled the living room. It was only when the room looked at least fairly organised that she finally fell gratefully into her own bed.

It was then she realised she had gone almost three hours without ever thinking of Wendy.

_'We're going to be okay,'_ she thought to herself, her eyes already beginning to close. _'Me and Eddie. Everything's going to turn out alright.'_

Almost unconsciously, her hand stole towards the journal on the bedside table, and Winry fell asleep with her hand resting on the leather cover.

**oooooooo**

"Can't something go right, for once?" Winry hissed to Liza. "I'm not asking for much, but can't things just be okay and _stay like that_?"

A bullet whizzed over her head, and Winry crouched down even further, trying to hug the counter.

It had been three months since Liza and Roy's wedding, three months in which life seemed to have meandered back towards normal. Well, it could never be normal again, but better. The grief became a part of her, and she learned to carry it everyday without really knowing it.

But now she and Liza were cowering under the bar top, as they had been since the gun-wielding maniac charged into The Songbird, in what was obviously an attempted robbery.

She heard footsteps, shuffling slightly, and a voice inquired, sounding desperate, "Where's the money?"

"Just over here," James said, in a voice that was trying to be steady but was wavering slightly.

"Well, hurry up!"

Winy could hear the rustling of the bills, and the sound of movement. She wanted to peek out over the bar and see what was happening, but didn't dare. Just one bullet in the right spot was all it would take to end her life.

Suddenly, the gunman started yelling. Winry couldn't make out much – the volume and speed of the speech distorted the words. But she gathered that the amount of money was significantly less than what the gunman was expecting.

James interjected, trying to calm him down...but suddenly, abruptly, a shot ripped through the building.

This one was different, Winry could hear it. A slightly wet 'thunck' sounding as though the bullet had impacted something. James?

Disregarding all thoughts of personal safety, Winry shot to her feet. "_James!_"

Something seared a white-hot line across her cheek, fireworks of pain exploding in its wake. For a moment, her world narrowed to the starbursts in front of her eyes and the smell of blood. Winry staggered against the counter, and when her sight returned, the gunman had fled.

And James was lying on the floor, his skull cracked open by a bullet.

**oooooooo**

_'I'm cursed,'_ Winry thought dully, _'Cursed.'_

The bullet had missed its target and sliced open her cheek instead. She had needed stitches, and it would certainly leave a scar. James hadn't been so lucky.

His funeral was in two days.

_'I'm cursed. First there was my parents, then Ed and Al, then I got zapped here and left everyone in Amestris behind, then Wendy, and now James. Maybe I should just become a hermit.'_

The idea of herself as a hermit would have amused her at any other time, but not now. Winry was spent, crushed, emotionally drained.

She was sick and tired of having to say goodbye.


	7. Leeson

**Chapter 7**

**Leeson**

Winry took one look at Leeson, and knew things were going to be difficult.

Leeson was James's business partner, and up to now had been a fairly silent one. But since James's death, he had taken on a more active role. Specifically, managing The Songbird.

Frankly, Winry wondered if she'd ever met a more detestable man. How the kind, easy-going James had ever tolerated this man was something she just couldn't fathom.

Leeson was handsome, considerably so, but Winry had never the type concerned with looks. She was more concerned with the way 'slimeball' practically oozed off him. He was sleezy, disrespectful, and at times, downright rude. When they'd first been introduced at her table, Winry had practically felt the man's stare crawling across her skin, like she was a horse and he was appraising the market value.

It wasn't a feeling she liked. And Leeson wasn't a man she liked. Something about him tugged at her memory, a dim recollection of a man she'd spoken to after her ordeal with Barry the Chopper...someone called Archer...?

**oooooooo**

"They call you 'The Virgin', right?" Leeson said, leaning over Winry's shoulder as she began setting up the table.

Winry nodded jerkily, trying to control the urge to elbow him in the gut until her personal space was restored.

"So...are you really?"

"Really what?"

"A virgin."

Winry went completely stiff. For a moment, she was certain that she'd misheard.

_'I knew he was a jerk, but there comes a limit!'_

The half-smirk, half-leer on his face told her she hadn't misheard.

Her first impulse manifested itself in a wild scream inside her head. _'I don't care if he's the boss – I'm decking him right now!'_

Swiftly followed by the more moderate urge to tell him to go fuck himself. Winry went with the third option.

"Frankly, that's none of your business."

"Well, they do say knowing personal things about your employees makes the going a lot...smoother."

Winry's eyes narrowed, but not once did she turn to face him.

She was wondering how to get out of this situation without dealing out insults or bodily injury, when Roy saved her by calling Leeson away.

Liza was beside her in a moment. "I saw what he was trying...told Roy to get his attention before you decided to show him what a mistake he was making."

"I was keeping it under control, wasn't I?" Winry countered.

"Exactly how close were you to laying him flat on his back?" Liza asked pointedly.

"Thirty seconds, at least," Winry said loftily, as though thirty seconds was more than enough.

"Look, Winry," Liza turned serious. "I'm a married woman, and that means he leaves me alone. But you..."

"Me...?"

"Just don't ever find yourself alone with him, that's all I'm saying."

Winry snorted. "Let him try something – I've laid better men than him on their asses."

"I'd believe that," Liza laughed.

"Besides, I know how to take care of myself," Winry said, one hand unconsciously caressing the thin scar on her cheek.

**oooooooo**

But Winry did try to take Liza's advice. She avoided Leeson whenever possible, and when she had to speak to him, she was short and to the point, almost brusque. She made sure there was always someone else in the room with them, and never took him up on his offer of a more 'private' discussion.

It rankled that she had to do this, had to alter her behaviour to avoid him. At first, she was all in favour of simply telling him his attentions weren't wanted and to piss off. But Liza had told her that such an action could cost Winry her job. In the dynamic of the man running a profitable business and the female employee, Leeson had all the power.

Another lesson in how different this world was from Amestris.

So all of Leeson's subtle and not-so subtle advances were ignored, instead of outright rebuffed. But Winry knew it was only a matter of time before he became even more insistent.

**oooooooo**

Winry rifled through the spare decks of cards on the top shelf, searching for the one that was hers alone. The soft creak of the door didn't surprise her, and she laughed as she turned around.

"Out of alcohol already, Liza? Must be some heavy drinkers out there today."

Except it wasn't Liza leaning against the doorframe. It was Leeson.

Fear bubbled up in the back of Winry's throat. Not so much fear for herself, but definitely fear for her job. This situation was going to get really ugly, really fast.

Deciding the best option was not to bait him, Winry tried to walk past him. He grabbed her arm as she passed, and Winry had to consciously restrain the desire to break his fingers.

_'Remember what Liza said. He's the boss – minimize any behaviour that will piss him off.'_

She opened her mouth to demand he let go of her, but he spoke first.

"It's a shame...you know you could do so much better than being a card dealer don't you?"

Winry's eyes narrowed. "That may be so, but I have no particular desire to find a new job. Now let me go and do the one I currently have."

But Leeson was not so easily discouraged. "I could arrange for such things, as long as-"

"I'll ask you not to finish that sentence."

Leeson's good mood was fast disappearing. "Look, girl, I pay your wages-"

"And that entitles you to the service of a card dealer, not a mistress!" Winry spat.

Leeson's lip curled. "You have two choices, girl. Either you do as I say, or you're fired on the spot."

Realising she was going to be out of a job either way, Winry decided she might as well go for broke.

So she smashed her clenched fist into the center of his face.

Leeson screamed, releasing her as both hands came up to cradle a nose Winry was fairly certain she'd broken. Blood dribbled down his chin.

Winry strode from the storeroom, never once looking back.

_'Why is it I'm always the one who has to hit these jerks?'_

But now she had a very desperate problem. She was out of a job.


	8. Sacrifices

**Chapter 8**

**Sacrifices**

Winry knew she was in trouble when Leeson fired her, but she hadn't expected a scathing reference from him would make her virtually unemployable. She and Eddie were running out of money, and Winry had already been forced to pawn several of their belongings just to get enough to eat.

But somehow, Winry couldn't bring herself to pawn her toolbox or the journal. It was mainly sentimentality, but, in a brief moment of despair, she forced herself to be rational and consider it. And swiftly come to the conclusion she probably wouldn't get much for them – not enough to make a difference, anyway.

She considered asking Roy and Liza for help, but always found herself thinking better of it. The couple had been unable to find an apartment, so they'd set up shop in some of the rooms above The Songbird. In other words, they were dependent on Leeson's goodwill. Goodwill that Winry knew would disappear in an instant if she went to stay with them.

Still, she was running out of options.

**oooooooo**

Winry had known this was coming. To be completely honest, she'd been surprised the landlord had tolerated her and Eddie as long as he had – without her job, there was no way to pay the weekly rent.

"What's going to happen to us?" Eddie sniffled, shivering in the cold night.

Winry noticed the tremble and pulled the scarf from her neck, wrapping it around his, trying to suppress her own shudder as the wind bit into her. But at least Eddie wasn't shivering anymore.

"Where are we going to go?"

"We'll see," was all Winry could say. "We'll see."

If it was just herself she had to worry about,she wouldn't even consider souring Liza and Roy's relationship with Leeson...

But that was the point, wasn't it? It wasn't just herself she had to worry about.

**oooooooo**

Winry tapped on the back door, praying that Liza and Roy were in. It had taken a while to walk here carrying their suitcases. It didn't help that Eddie had fallen asleep in her arms along the way.

The older woman answered the door, her eyes lighting up when she saw Winry.

"Winry, it's good to see you...how did that clerk job pan out?"

"Wash out," Winry mumbled. "And Liza...you might not think it's good to see me when you hear what I have to say."

Liza's face softened in sympathy. "Kicked out?"

"Got it in one. And I know what you're going to say about Leeson, but don't worry about that. I'm just asking you to let Eddie sleep here, not me."

Liza's brow furrowed. "Why would we turn you away?"

"Well, you guys need to stay on Leeson's good side, and offering me room and board is going to put you in his bad books real fast."

"That may be so, but where are you going to sleep?"

"I'll sleep in a park somewhere." _'And hopefully, not catch hypothermia while I'm at it.'_

"The hell you will," Liza growled, and before Winry could react, the older woman had yanked her inside.

The whole thing happened so fast Winry had no time to protest. "Look, Liza, you don't have to do this-"

"Of course I don't _have_ to. I _want_ to. Here," she said, throwing Winry a blanket. "We'll probably be able to set you guys up on the floor somewhere. Won't be the best, but it's all we can do at the moment."

"Don't worry about that," Winry snorted. "Just...thanks for putting us up in the first place."

Liza gave a warm smile. "My pleasure."

"Guests, Liza?" Roy asked, wandering into the room.

"Winry and Eddie are sleeping here tonight," his wife told him, already beginning to arrange a makeshift bed in the middle of the floor.

Roy chuckled as he spotted Eddie. Winry held the four year old on her hip, and he was dozing peacefully against her shoulder.

"Looks to me like someone decided to fall asleep on the way here." He went to assist Liza.

In spite of the situation, Winry smiled. She didn't know what she would have done if she didn't have friends like these two.

**oooooooo**

Winry sighed as another door was shut in her face. What was with these people? Deciding that one reference from a powerful man made an unmarried female unemployable...

"Ever heard of equal rights, jerks?" she muttered under her breath.

It was dark when she managed to return to The Songbird, using the back door to sneak into Roy and Liza's rooms. So far, Leeson seemed ignorant of her presence, and for the sake of her friends, Winry wanted to keep it that way.

She managed to slip in unseen, and began to prepare dinner. Since Roy and Liza wouldn't hear of her paying rent or anything of the sort, Winry tried to contribute to the household by cooking, cleaning, washing...in essence, performing basic chores.

**oooooooo**

"Tell me a story, Auntie Win," Eddie murmured after dinner.

Winry smiled as she tucked him into bed. "Any particular story? Or do you want to hear a new one?"

Eddie seemed to consider it for several moments. "Tell me about the time Ed saved the Crystal Princess from the evil Blood Prince."

Winry had to hold in a chuckle. The first time she'd been designated story-telling duties, Eddie had demanded a very specific story.

"It's got to have a good guy with superpowers in it...who helps people...and a princess gets kidnapped and he has to rescue her-"

Desperate to come up with a half-way plausible storyline, Winry had panicked and told him about her capture by Barry the Chopper when she was twelve. Spruced up to sound like a fairytale, of course.

"Sure thing, Eddie. Once upon a time, there lived a boy called Edward-"

"Like me," Eddie murmured sleepily, and Winry kissed his forehead.

"Like you," she agreed. "This boy was part of the royal guard, even though he was very young. But he was just as powerful as any of the adults, because he had a special power..."

She was barely halfway into the story when she realised her audience was asleep. With a fond smile, she tucked the blankets around him, and made her way to her own bed.

**oooooooo**

Winry never knew how it happened. One moment, she could hear Roy's raised voice in the hallway, the next...

Leeson had burst into the room, catching Winry and Eddie on the floor, in the middle of reading a storybook.

In any other situation, the frozen expression of disbelief and shock on his face might have been funny. The room was deathly still – even Eddie made no move to break the tableau.

_'Not good!'_ Winry's brain yelled. _'Not good! Think, Winry, think...how are you going to get out of this one?'_

Roy charged in behind Leeson, and that seemed to restore the man to himself.

"Roy Chenang," he began, his voice low and intent. "Would you like to explain what these two miscreants are doing in your quarters?" He was speaking to Roy, but his eyes never left Winry.

Roy started to speak, but Leeson held up a hand for silence. "No, don't answer that, just let me speak to them alone for a few moments."

A protective spark lit an inferno in Roy's eyes. But Winry shook her head at him, her gaze urging him to obey. His job was in jeopardy as it was – he didn't need to add fuel to the fire simply for the sake of defending her.

She saw his teeth grit, saw his fists clench. But he listened to her silent request, and left the room.

"Eddie, follow Roy," she whispered, giving the boy a slight push in the direction of the door.

"He can stay," Leeson said. It wasn't a suggestion.

"Okay, you can stay," Winry told Eddie, trying to summon a smile.

Eddie just nodded, and came to stand beside her, clutching at her legs for comfort. The blatant tension in the room made him quiet and subdued. Almost unconsciously, one of Winry's arms encircled his shoulders, gently pulling him to her.

"You know," Leeson began, "I can fire both of them for this."

"It's not their fault."

"Of course not...it's yours."

"Excuse me?"

"Your...shall we say, less than cooperative attitude...was the reason I had to fire you-"

_'Really? It's not because you were pissed I wouldn't sleep with you?' _Winry thought acidly.

"-and now...here you are." He looked down at Eddie. "Here you both are."

Winry's arm tightened around Eddie. "Is there some point to this?"

"Simply that I am in charge here, and what I say goes. If I say you go...you go right back on the streets."

Winry's stomach was churning. Not for herself – but she didn't like having Eddie in the room for this conversation, and she was worried about the consequences for Liza and Roy.

"You need to think carefully about your position," Leeson continued. "After all, you're responsible for this child's welfare and safety. How long do you think he'd last on the streets before he succumbed to pneumonia or hypothermia or any of the other ailments that hundreds of homeless people are dying from?"

Winry found herself starting to tremble, and did her best to hide it from Leeson. She silently prayed this wasn't going where she thought it was going...

But her prayers went unanswered, as Leeson continued speaking. "However, if you were to be more...cooperative...in your behaviour towards me, I'm sure you'd find me more...amenable...in my behaviour towards you."

Winry simply stared at him, unable to form a coherent response.

Leeson smirked triumphantly, nodding at Eddie. "You might want to remember that you are holding his health, his future...his very life in your hands. I suggest you play your cards right. You have three days."

And then he was gone.

**oooooooo**

Winry remained rooted to the spot, staring after him for several moments before she realised Eddie was calling her name.

"Auntie Win! Auntie Win!"

Winry managed to shake herself out of her reverie. "Yeah?"

"I don't like that man."

"Neither do I."

Winry eased herself down to the floor, shaking. Leeson had essentially given her a choice between her body and Eddie's life. Sure, they could try their luck on the streets, but for a kid his age, that was practically a death sentence.

"Auntie Win?" Eddie whispered, and she realised she was probably frightening him with her uncharacteristic behaviour.

The door slammed open as Roy tore into the room. "_What did he say?_"

"Nothing," Winry lied. "That is, nothing important. Just some things that shook me a little. Nothing important."

Roy's eyes clearly showed his disbelief, but Winry was already up and moving towards the door.

"Anyway, I heard they're offering a job at the local grocer's, and now's about the time I have to have my interview...so I'll see you later."

**oooooooo**

There wasn't really any job interview – Winry had exhausted all her options several days ago. But she'd been desperate for time alone, to walk, to think. She walked all the way to the Thames and leaned over the river, staring into the murky waters.

She hadn't stopped shaking.

Winry breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down enough to think logically about this. She turned it over and over in her mind, but every time, the choice was the same. She could either sleep with Leeson...or risk her and Eddie being tossed out on the streets.

Every time, it was the same choice. Her body or Eddie's future.

**oooooooo**

On her way back to The Songbird, Winry spotted Eddie and Liza in the park, and went to join them.

"Auntie Win!" Eddie cried, throwing himself into her arms.

Winry lifted him up, hugging him tightly to her, burying her face in his brass-coloured hair.

_'He's turning five this year. He depends on you to feed him, protect him, take care of him...you're Auntie Win, and you're the one who makes him dinner, who tells him stories, who tucks him in at night...'_

A rush of maternal love swelled Winry's heart, but then grim reality intruded on her bubble of happiness and her chest tightened.

_'Do you want to be the one who's responsible for him living on the streets?'_

Winry sighed. Softly, gently, a sigh of resignation and despair. She loved Eddie like a son.

And she would do anything for him.

**oooooooo**

It would happen tonight. Winry mentally reviewed what Leeson had told her – the room to go to, the time to be there by...

She felt numb, and a strange chill wracked her body. The icy breath from the grave of the part of her that would die tonight. Die so that Eddie might have a future.

Winry wasn't the type of girl who fantasized about her wedding day or her first kiss or her first time. But, for some reason, she'd always imagined Ed as her first, and the thought of giving something as precious as her virginity to Leeson...

She told herself not to think about – she'd only make herself sick.

"Where are you going?" Eddie asked, his head cocked to one side in exaggerated curiosity.

"Nowhere important," Winry murmured, blinking away the sudden threat of tears.

_'I can do this,'_ she told herself, _'I can do this. I have to do this, there's no way he'll let me stay if I don't, and I don't want Eddie thrown out on the streets-'_

Her thoughts ground to a sudden halt as a flash of insight hit her. '_Wait a minute...when I first came, I just wanted Roy and Liza to look after Eddie...that's the answer! They'll look after Eddie, and I'll go somewhere else!'_

Latching onto the desperate hope that she might not have to...do _this_...after all, Winry practically bolted into the living room.

"Roy! Liza!"

Husband and wife were curled on the couch, but both looked up when Winry entered.

"Winry? What's wrong?" Liza asked.

Without even giving herself a chance to catch her breath, Winry blurted out the story. Both Liza and Roy were gaping by the end, as Winry ended with her plea for them to look after Eddie while she struggled to find another job.

"I knew he was bad, but I never thought..." Roy began, trailing off into silence.

"Yeah, well we all know he's a son of a bitch," Winry spat, then mollified her tone somewhat. "So, will you guys look after Eddie?"

"Of course we will!" Liza said.

The relief was so great Winry actually sagged against the doorframe. A soft rushing filled her ears and heat began to suffuse her body once more, banishing the unnatural chill.

She didn't have to do it.

**oooooooo**

It was painful to leave Eddie behind, painful for both of them. Winry broke the news as gently as possible, explaining why he could stay and she couldn't, but that hadn't stopped his tears coming. She'd held him tightly, telling him she loved him and she'd visit as often as she could.

It didn't make it hurt any less, though.

She waved to the three figures in the doorway one last time before she disappeared around the corner, the street lamps throwing distorted shadows on the dark buildings. Her small suitcase was thrown over her shoulder, containing only a spare set of clothes, a blanket, her toolbox, and Ed's journal.

As she had so many times before, Winry walked into the darkness of the unknown. But for the first time in a long while, there was no one by her side.


	9. Wendy Elric

**Chapter 9**

**Wendy Elric**

_AN: Underlines denote speaking in German._

**oooooooo**

_'What was that saying, again?'_ Winry mused to herself. _'About when you hit rock bottom, the only place left to go is up?'_

_'They were wrong!'_ she thought viciously, wrapping the blanket around her body as she prepared to settle herself in the lee of a bridge to sleep. _'The only "rock bottom" is being dead! While you're alive, it can always get worse!'_

Perhaps these thoughts were overly cynical, but they made her feel slightly better. With a slight huff, she tucked the edges of the blanket under her body to anchor it, and tried to ignore the hard ground beneath her as she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

**oooooooo**

_Dresser Wanted – Apply Within_

Winry eyed the sign, measuring her options. What did she really have to lose?

But on the other hand, she didn't really know what a dresser was. Weren't they the people who helped actors? Or was that something else?

She'd been on the street for about three days, but was already beginning to feel the tinge of desperation common to the homeless. At first, her main worry was Eddie – Leeson could still throw him out, couldn't he? But when she visited him, she learned that – though Leeson hadn't been happy about it – Roy had pointed out that the public wouldn't look too kindly on him throwing a child onto the streets, especially if the child already had a couple willing to look after him.

While Winry was relieved, she couldn't help but be a little bitter. It mattered if he chucked the kid out, but not that he'd thrown the kid's foster mother out?

Winry shook her head to dislodge those thoughts, and knocked on the door of the small house.

The door cracked open, and she found herself looking a dark, liquid brown eye. "Yes?"

"Umm...the sign outside..." Winry stuttered, unsure if she was talking to her potential employer or a servant.

"Of course, come in."

The door opened, revealing a small woman with olive skin and long, jet-black hair. For a moment, Winry's voice failed her. The face, the features, the colouring...she was certain she was staring at this world's version of Paninya. Except the long, elegant dress the woman was wearing told her this would probably be a very different Paninya to the girl she'd met in Rush Valley.

"Have a seat," the woman said, gesturing at the table and chairs.

Winry did so, and the woman took the chair opposite her.

"First off, my stage name is Lily Passion, but my real name is Mary Dunkelt. Call me Mary."

"Winry Rockbell," Winry smiled, shaking the proffered hand.

"Now, Winry, let's be perfectly honest with each other," Mary began. "I'm difficult to work for. I'm fussy, I'm obsessed with my work and with going out with any of my various boyfriends. So my dresser is going to be more like a personal maid than just someone to help me into my clothes. You will need to help me rehearse, organise my appointments with hairdressers, jewelers and the like, as well as making sure none of the dates set by my boyfriends mesh. It may not sound like much now, but you must remember that a dresser travels with her actress, and I can tell you it will get very tiring, very quickly."

"So, now that I've been honest with you, it's your turn to be honest with me. What is your experience level, do you think you can perform those duties, and is there anything else I should know about you?"

Winry took a deep breath. "My experience is absolutely nothing. But I'm fairly desperate for a job, and will gladly take any I'm given. And you shouldn't worry about an extensive training period – I've always been a very quick learner. I see no problem with the duties you've mentioned, I've worked far harder jobs."

_'Like those that require you to stay up all night making a mechanical arm.'_

"I'm quite independent, at times I probably border on insubordinate," Winry continued. "I've got a stubborn streak, and my level of education is significantly above average. I've lived on the streets, so I can take care of myself, in the sense of both mental dexterity and physical altercations. I'm something of a perfectionist, and if you give me this job, I can promise you I will work to the best of my abilities."

Mary hadn't moved during her speech, save the occasional blink. When Winry finally fell silent, her blank expression shifted at last, breaking into a smile eerily reminiscent of Paninya, despite the fact that their personalities were miles apart.

"Well, Winry, I expect you're the liveliest person to walk in my door in years. If I have a weakness, it's that I simply adore excitement, and you practically bubble with it – you're hired!"

"I am?"

"Now, come over here and we'll get started. First, you need to learn the names of these garments, so when I ask for them I don't get a blank look in return..."

Winry listened attentively, making mental notes, hardly able to believe she'd been hired just because she was 'exciting'. Not that she was complaining – Mary would be infinitely more pleasurable to work with than Leeson.

**oooooooo**

"Now, repeat after me," Mary instructed. "Es ist ein schöner Tag."

"Es ist ein schöner Tag."

"Very good. Now, using your current command of the German language, can you tell me what you just said?"

Winry's brows wrinkled. "Um...I said...it was a nice day?"

"Bravo, Winry. I tell you, you weren't boasting when you said you were a fast learner."

Apparently, Mary was from Germany, and while she could speak perfectly without the slightest trace of an accent on stage, she didn't want to do so in her free time. So, Winry was getting a crash course in speaking German from her.

Winry had always thought she'd be rubbish at learning a new language. But Mary gave her lessons every night, without fail, and because she insisted on speaking German to her at any other time, Winry found herself picking it up out of sheer necessity.

It had been several months since she'd first been fired, and Winry was a few days off turning twenty. She saw Eddie, Roy and Liza whenever she could, which was often, to her immense relief. While she longed to see more of her surrogate son, she also understood that travelling to the far reaches of the country on a regular basis didn't exactly promote stability. Even if the theatre group was based in London, they often performed elsewhere. So he stayed with Roy and Liza.

Winry had gotten the hang of being a dresser very quickly. It had been a rocky beginning, but now she felt at ease with the theatre group – performers and stage hands alike. Of course, there were people she didn't get along with, but Winry figured there were always going to be jerks in the world, wherever she went.

Like Darleen Le'veu, for instance. Mary was the 'prima donna', that is, the woman who took the leading roles, while Darleen always took the second female. But she was one of those people who were arrogantly confident they deserved a higher position, and had no qualms about voicing their opinion. Sometimes Winry just wanted to grab the over-dramatic woman by the shoulders, shake her hard, and scream _'the world does not revolve around you!'_

But other than the occasional run-in with Darleen, Winry now found her life surprisingly smooth-going.

_'Maybe there really is something to that saying about hitting rock-bottom and then going up.'_

**oooooooo**

"I cannot believe this!" Mary bellowed, sweeping into her dressing room and collapsing on the couch.

"What's the matter?" Winry asked in dutiful German, bringing her stressed employer a glass of water.

"Darleen is throwing another hissy fit," Mary sighed, "Insists that she won't perform until she 'gets what her talent deserves'. It's utter nonsense, of course. That woman has hardly any talent to speak of in the first place. Honestly, Winry, you show more feeling when you're helping me learn my lines than _she_ ever has on the stage-"

Suddenly, Mary's voice ground to a halt. Her eyes lit up. "That's it!"

"What's 'it'?"

"You!" Mary exclaimed, "You'll do it! You'll play Darleen's part!"

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold up here one second, let me make sure I understand what you're saying here," Winry interjected. "You're saying you want me – a dresser – to take on the second female role in the play!"

"That's exactly what I'm saying! Think about it, Winry – you have far more talent than Darleen, you've already learnt most of the lines from helping me rehearse, and you're a far nicer person – although that isn't saying much, considering what a witch she is."

"You...you really think I can do it?" Winry stammered.

"Of course I do! Where's the manager, we'll start discussing it right now!"

"You really think he'll go for it?" Winry asked as Mary dragged her out the door.

"Darleen's hissy fits have been known to last long enough to delay openings. He'll jump at the chance to recruit someone less high-maintenance. Not that I think you're worth less, my dear, but you're a lot less demanding and a lot less arrogant – think of it as a compliment."

"So...I might be an actress by this time next week?"

"I practically guarantee it!"

Winry couldn't help smiling. She thought she liked this idea.

**oooooooo**

Two weeks on, Winry still couldn't contain her disbelief that Mary had been right. The manager had loved the idea, and Winry had performed for the first time on her twentieth birthday. She found it astonishing that she'd even had a modicum of acting ability, even more so that she'd remembered her lines.

But what she found most astonishing of all was that the crowd had loved her.

"Fabulous performance, Winry, as usual," Mary crowed, breezing into her dressing room.

Winry looked up from the wash basin. In most actresses, make-up was a luxury to accentuate their features on the stage. In Winry's case, it was a necessity to cover up the scars on her breast and cheek.

She smiled at Mary's enthusiasm. "Thanks, Mary."

"You haven't forgotten your German, have you?" Mary asked in German, her eyes piercing.

Winry laughed, and answered in kind. "Me? Forget my German? I'm astonished you would even think such a thing!"

"Good girl," Mary praised, then sighed dramatically, "And I still think you need a better stage name."

"Hey, he asked out of the blue, and it was the first thing I could think of. But I've gotten attached to it now," Winry defended.

When the manager asked her for her stage name, she had cast around desperately for any name other than her own. The only things that had popped into her head were visions of Wendy and Ed. So she'd blurted the name 'Wendy Elric' before she could even think about it.

But she was telling the truth when she said she'd gotten attached to it. It felt natural somehow.

"Well, I suppose it's _your_ name," Mary said, huffing as though mortified.

Winry, who knew by now not to take her seriously, simply smiled again. "There any particular reason you came charging into my dressing room?"

"Absolutely, my dear." Mary produced a thick script with a flourish. "Our new script."

Winry picked it up, glimpsing the title 'Phantom Of The Opera'. She flicked it open, examining the cast list.

"Hmmm," she murmured, "It says here that Charlotte's playing Madame Giry, so I guess that makes me Carlotta..."

"Not in a million years!" Mary snapped. "I'm playing Carlotta, you're playing Christine."

"But that's the leading role!" Winry protested. "You're the leading lady!"

"Generally, yes, but it's also about what roles would suit us. Look at Carlotta as a character – I just can't see you as a selfish, bitchy drama queen, Winry. Carlotta's character is about as far from you as you can get. But Christine, on the other hand...she's a modest, selfless, and compassionate young woman – a role that suits you down to the ground."

Winry tried not to blush at the implied comment. "Are you sure?"

"Never been more sure, my dear. Besides," Mary confided in a mock-whisper, "I've always longed to act like Darleen did, just to see what it felt like. And the role of Carlotta is absolutely perfect for just that kind of behaviour."

"I'll play Christine," Winry acquiesced, before joking. "Now get out here so I can start learning my lines."

"A workaholic, as always," Mary said.

"By the way," the older woman continued, "I've been dying to ask you...what's this?" She held up Ed's journal.

"It's a journal."

"That's written in gibberish!"

"It has sentimental value."

"Just like that thirty-something pound toolkit?"

"Don't be dissing my mementos..."

The friendly argument went back and forth like a tennis match until Winry left to meet Eddie, Liza and Roy in the park.

**oooooooo**

Ed sighed as he pulled the final suitcase from the train. "Well, we're here," he said unnecessarily, looking around at the foggy streets of London. "Now where's this guy supposed to live again?"

Al unfolded the scrap of paper with the rocket scientist's address on it, waving it in Ed's face. "Unlike some people, I actually wrote it down."

"Where are we staying?" Noah asked.

Ed realised that, with the voices of London surrounding them, he and Al had slipped into English, a language Noah still wasn't completely fluent in.

"We're staying at a place called The Reagent," Ed supplied. "We'll only be here a few months, at most."

"You think this 'Marcel' will be as bad as Einchen?" Al asked, speaking in German in an effort not to leave Noah out of the discussion.

"Let's hope not," Ed snorted.

Einchen was the engineer who recommended Marcel to them. Basically a nice guy, but of the distinct opinion that women were below him in all ways. The few times he'd visited them, he'd been very disparaging to Noah, suggesting that women didn't have the intelligence to comprehend what they were discussing.

Several times Ed had caught himself thinking, _'You think women can't understand engineering, Einchen? Why don't you come to Amestris and meet a friend of mine – Winry Rockbell. She'd set you straight on gender equality. First, she'd wrench you for even implying she's inferior, then she'd leave in you in the dust with her knowledge of mechanics.'_

It wasn't the first time he'd caught himself wishing Winry was with him – usually for more emotional reasons though, then mere mechanical knowledge. But he told himself it would be selfish. He'd seen the way this world treated women, and he didn't want to think of Winry being treated like that. He'd seen the dispirited, beaten-down look many women had after years of being looked on as property instead of human beings, and knew it would break his heart to see Winry as anything other than her feisty, argumentative self.

All in all, it was probably better for her that she never had to see this world.

It didn't make him any less lonely, though. Yes, he had Al and Noah, but Winry had always been...special. He thought of her before he went to sleep at night, trying to remember every detail about her. The exact colour of her eyes, the smell of her hair, the shape of her smile, the warmth of her body whenever she hugged him.

Frankly, it was torture. Torture to remind himself nightly of what he could never have, but it didn't stop him. Far more frightening than the pain of remembering her, was the fear that one day he _wouldn't_ be able to remember her. That one night, he'd lie on his bed and realise he was no longer sure of the exact number of ear piercings she had sported.

It was six, incidentally. Two in her left earlobe, two in her right earlobe, and two in shell of her right ear. The earrings she wore were always silver. Ed wondered if that had changed by now.

Realising this train of thought would only lead to depression, Ed tried to drag his attention back to Al and Noah. They were gathered around a poster, talking in low tones.

"What are you guys looking at?"

They stepped aside, giving Ed a clear view of a poster announcing the theatric performance of 'Phantom Of The Opera'.

"We should go see this!" Al exclaimed.

"Al, we're here to see Marcel," Ed reminded.

"That's no reason we can't go see this," Al persisted. "Come on, brother...we hardly have any fun anymore."

Ed looked at Noah. "You okay with this?"

She smiled. "I think it would be enjoyable, don't you?"

"Fine," Ed sighed, "We'll drop our luggage off and buy tickets somewhere."

**oooooooo**

_AN: I am aware that 'Phantom Of The Opera' was not being performed in the early 1900's, but it happens to be the only play I really know well enough to discuss castings, characters, etc. And plus, there's this song that...well, you'll see in the next chapter._


	10. Home

**Chapter 10**

**Home**

The theatre was packed, but the three of them managed to find their seats. Ed had made sure to buy good tickets – he couldn't afford the front row ones, but he'd made sure they were at least able to see the stage without squinting.

They settled in their seats, and watched the opening scene. To his surprise, Ed found himself enjoying the play, until it neared the end of the second scene. He happened to glance at one of chorus girls...

And nearly had a heart attack.

The woman was Winry right down to the ground. Same hair, same eyes, same...everything. He choked on air and saliva, staring at her. This must be Winry's alternate.

Ed had always dreaded meeting this world's version of Winry. Dreaded meeting someone so like the woman he loved, and at the same time, so different. Dreaded being forced to see her live her life the same way Winry was probably doing...without him.

Next to him, Al tugged frantically on his sleeve. "Brother...Winry..."

"I see her too, Al," he whispered. "I see her too."

Far more than merely seeing, he was unable to rip his eyes away.

The play progressed, and Ed deduced that this alternate Winry was actually playing the lead. The character called Carlotta – who reminded him irresistibly of Paninya – refused to sing and walked off, so Christine – the one alter-Winry was playing – stepped up instead.

"_Think of me_

_Think of me fondly_

_When we've said_

_Goodbye._"

Ed stiffened as the song washed over the audience. If he had believed in God, he would have been inclined to think he was unbearably cruel.

"_Remember me_

_Once in a while_

_Please promise me_

_You'll try._"

A woman who looked exactly like Winry was up on the stage singing of lost love.

"_When you find_

_That once again you long_

_To take your heart back_

_And be free_

_If you even find a moment_

_Spare a thought_

_For me._"

She was entreating the man she loved not to forget her.

"_We never said_

_Our love was evergreen_

_Or as unchanging as the sea_

_But if you can still remember_

_Stop and think of me._"

It was so perfectly suited to his situation he thought he might scream.

"_Think of all the things_

_We've shared and seen_

_Don't think about the things _

_Which might have been..._"

That, or run out of the theatre.

"_Think of me_

_Think of me waking_

_Silent and resigned._"

He wanted to yell at her to stop.

"_Imagine me_

_Trying too hard_

_To put you from my mind._"

Stop, stop! He got it, he got it!

"_Recall those days_

_Look back on all those times_

_Think of the things we'll never do..._"

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. Ed bolted from his seat, dashing towards the doors as though the hounds of hell were on his heels, the last few lines drifting to his ears before he made it out.

_There will never a day_

_When I won't think_

_Of you._"

**oooooooo**

Outside, he leaned against the wall to get his breath back. He shook his head, as though he could shake some sense into himself.

_'Get a freaking grip!'_ he coached himself.

Still...he wasn't about to go back inside. Not yet.

He heard the door open, and Al came out. "Brother?"

"I'm fine, Al," Ed said dully. "Go back inside – enjoy the play."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Ed muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily.

Al went back inside, and Ed spent several moments trying to collect himself. He thought about going back inside, but quickly discarded the idea. There was no way he could face that again without throwing a screaming fit. Or breaking into tears...and that would be really embarrassing in a theatre full of people.

He wandered around the building, circling it over and over, barely aware of the hours that were passing steadily. In fact, he only became aware the play was over when he heard the front doors open and the crowd beginning to file out. He started to retrace his steps, but suddenly became aware of a commotion around the back. Raised voices drifted to his ears, one female, one male.

He risked a peek around the corner...and spotted the Winry look-alike arguing with a man that looked very much like Frank Archer.

**oooooooo**

Winry was beyond pissed.

"Listen, Leeson!" she bellowed, jabbing him in the chest with her extended finger, "I do not answer to you anymore-"

"But your friends do," he countered.

"Check your paperwork, jerk! Roy and Liza took new jobs yesterday!"

"Now," Winry continued, trying to dial the volume down. "We will be mature adults about this. You will leave _now_, and if I ever see you anywhere near me again, I will wrench you so hard your _grandchildren_ will be born with flat noses and dented heads! If you ever have any, that is," she added contemptuously.

"Listen, girly-"

"My name is not girly!" Winry shrieked, feeling as though she was inches away from committing gleeful homicide. "It's Winry Rockbell! Winry Rockbell! It's not hard to say!"

With a snarl, she whirled on her heel, but Leeson grabbed her arm.

It would be the last time he made that mistake. True to her word, Winry whipped out her wrench and dealt him the most savage blow she could ever remember inflicting.

Leeson dropped like a stone.

But Winry's temper hadn't burned out quite yet. She hurled her wrench at the wall, spun in a circle and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"_Stupid idiot! Stupid idiot men of this stupid idiotic world! Stupid freaking alchemists who open that goddamned Gate and get me sucked into this goddamned world which has never heard of equal-freaking-rights!_"

Winry huffed a sigh and kicked the ground petulantly. Still, her childish outburst had improved her mood. Deliberately stepping on Leeson's prone form, she went to grab her wrench from the ground...

And crashed into the person standing just around the corner.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologised, before raising her eyes to the person's face.

"_Ed?_"

**oooooooo**

Ed realised he was still staring. But he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. "Winry?"

With a choked sob, she hurled herself at him, hugging him tightly. His back hit the wall, but other than that, he didn't move.

He still couldn't believe it. Winry. Here. He wondered dimly if he was dreaming. Or hallucinating.

Slowly, like the shifting of continental plates, he wrapped his arms around her. She was shaking slightly. Her body moulded into his – warm, heavy and _real_.

With a choked cry of his own, he crushed her to him, so savagely he feared he might break her ribs. But she clutched back just as fiercely, and as she hid her face in his neck he buried his in her hair, inhaling deeply. She no longer carried the scent of metal, sweat and shampoo – now she smelled of cosmetics, varnish and rainwater. But beneath those superficial odours, was _her_, that unique, Winry-scent that could never be duplicated.

"Ed...you're crying," Winry whispered.

"I am?" Ed murmured dully, then raised his hand to his cheeks, surprised by the dampness there. "I guess I am."

"You are," Winry sniffled. "So don't you dare say a word about me being all weepy here."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ed said, still in a state of shock.

This was Winry. He was hugging Winry, talking with Winry, just like old times. This was Winry. _His_ Winry.

He didn't want examine how possessive that thought sounded.

He was startled from his reverie by a voice nearby. "Brother?"

Both Ed and Winry froze. Ed looked up as Winry slowly rotated in his arms. Al and Noah were standing behind them, with identical looks of shock plastered on their faces.

"Al?" Winry choked out.

"Winry?" Al gasped, his eyes round as a pair of coins.

Al lunged for Winry, and she squealed as he caught her in an exuberant hug. "Winry!"

"Al...need...to...breathe," Winry hissed out, but didn't stop holding him.

"Oh, right..." Al's grip loosened, but not by much.

Noah looked at the brother's obvious glee at finding the woman in front of them, looked at Ed's face..and finally admitted defeat. For years, she'd harboured feelings for him, and more than once dared to hope that those feelings might be returned. He was kind to her, and she assumed that she would simply grow on him with time. But now it was clear why he had never encouraged her advances. The look in his eyes as he watched the pretty blonde couldn't be described in words.

He was in love with _her_.

Al was the first to realise that Noah was standing off to one side, looking slightly lost.

"Oh, Winry," he said, pulling her forward. "This is our friend, Noah. Noah, this is Winry."

Noah couldn't help but feel a little bitter towards Winry, yet the smile she gave was honest. There was just something about this girl...as though she had an aura that made it impossible to dislike her.

"Pleased to meet you," she said, hoping her accent wasn't too thick.

Winry cocked her head. "You're German," she stated.

Then, to the surprise of all three, Winry launched into fluent German, "Pleased to meet you too."

"You speak German?" Noah gaped, astonished.

Winry nodded, looking slightly smug at their shocked expressions.

"How do you know German?" Ed asked, slipping into the language to include Noah in the conversation.

Winry grinned. "I was dedicated to my job."

"What?"

"Never mind about that, come into my dressing room and we'll talk."

**oooooooo**

Ed still wasn't entirely convinced this wasn't some sort of dream. It certainly seemed like something from one of his fantasies. Winry was here. Here. With them.

He kept getting the urge to pinch himself, but always squashed it. If this really was a dream, he didn't want to wake up for a while yet.

Winry was at the wash basin, scrubbing away the make-up on her face. Ed was shocked when the cosmetics peeled away to reveal a deep scar along her cheekbone. Winry noticed his gaze and shrugged.

"Bullet," she explained succintly.

"_What?_" Ed yelped, echoed by Al and Noah.

But Winry was now scrubbing at her chest, and another layer of make-up ran away, giving them a clear view of another scar. This one was shaped like a 'V', and situated on the curve of her breast.

Again, she anticipated their queries. "Knife."

"Knife?" Ed gaped.

"Is there an echo in here?" Winry teased. It surprised her how quickly they had gotten back 'in-tune' with each other.

But Ed's eyes were serious when he looked at her once more. "You've got a story to tell."

"And I expect you guys do too," she rejoined.

"Winry...how long have you been here?" Al ventured.

"Is that 'here' as in 'here in the theatre', or as in 'here in this world'?"

"In this world."

"Well..." Winry began, doing some quick mental addition. "Nearly two years, give or take."

"Two years?" Ed yelled.

Winry rolled her eyes, "Yes, Ed, two years. And what was I saying about that echo?"

But Ed wasn't really paying attention. Winry had been in this world for two years. And she hadn't had the luxury of a friendly face waiting for her, as he and Al had. No, she'd been dumped into this world alone...and she'd obviously been forced to struggle through it alone. And those scars told him just how desperate her struggle had been.

"Just what happened to you, Winry?" Ed asked quietly.

"It's a long story."

Ed shrugged. "We're not going anywhere."

"Then kick back boys and girls," Winry said in her best narrator voice. "And let me tell you a tale from long ago..."

Everyone chortled, and Winry began her story. She edited it severely, though, leaving out the bedtime stories she told to Eddie, taking care not to mention her stage name, those kinds of details. Anything that would even hint to Ed of her feelings for him.

After all, he'd never made any overtures to her, and she had no reason to assume he ever would.

**oooooooo**

At the end of her story, there was several seconds of stunned silence.

"That jerk!" Ed suddenly exploded.

"Who?" Winry asked, completely baffled.

"Him! Leeson, or something like that...trying to get you to sleep with him just to keep a roof over that kid's head!"

Winry was rather surprised to realise that Ed was seething. Utterly boiling with rage.

"Hey, take it easy, Ed. It wasn't exactly one of my shining moments, either." She looked at the floor. "After all, I did intend to sleep with him. It's...not something I'm proud of..."

Ed was utterly floored. She seemed ashamed of what she'd nearly done, but to him, it only emphasised the kind of person Winry was. She had been willing to have sex with a man she despised, just to preserve the future of a child that wasn't hers.

He had met a lot of people in his travels, but he was certain that no one, _no one_, had a heart as big or as pure as Winry's.

"Winry?"

Winry jumped as Mary stuck her head in the door, looking around for an instant before her eyes settled on Winry.

"So sorry, dear," she smiled, "But Andre's turned up at the last minute – can I beg off our dinner outing?"

"Sure," Winry grinned, and before she could even think to introduce Mary to the others, the older woman had slipped out.

But not before calling out, as per usual, "Get another stage name, won't you, dear? Wendy Elric is just _so_ mundane..."

Winry was left staring at the closed door, utterly mortified.

"She really does speak German all the time, doesn't she?" Al observed.

"Wendy Elric?" Ed asked, feeling pleased for some reason he couldn't identify.

"Shut up," she growled. "It was all that came to mind at the time."

"Well," Noah started, having been almost completely silent for the entire conversation, "Since your dinner plans seem to be spoiled, why don't you eat with us?"

She gave Winry a determined smile, resolved on making overtures of friendship towards her.

"Really?" Winry looked at Ed and Al, "You guys won't mind?"

Mind? He hadn't seen her for three years! "Trust me, Winry, you'll be welcome," Ed smiled.

"Oh, by the way, this is yours." As Winry handed Ed his journal, a few stray photos of her, Eddie, and Wendy slipped out. Everyone dropped to help her pick them up.

"I suppose this is Wendy?" Al asked, flicking through the pictures. "And...Eddie, wasn't it?"

Ed was too busy with the pictures to see Winry's nod. He stared at the one in his hand, of all three smiling at the camera. He concentrated on the faces of Wendy and Eddie, feeling vaguely guilty. After all, this world's Edward had only died because he'd been thrown into his body. If it wasn't for him, Wendy would still have a husband, and Eddie would still have a father...

He shook his head vigorously, trying to dislodge those thoughts. But he still found it vaguely disturbing to be gazing upon the face of a child that was the product of the marriage of his alter to Winry's alter. Would his and Winry's children look like that?

Another shake of the head. _'Don't go there.'_

Noah seemed utterly intrigued by the photo she'd picked up. "Wow...she really does look exactly like you..."

Winry giggled as the dark woman showed her the 'identical twins' picture. "We got that taken just for fun. No one could ever tell us apart," she added as she passed the photo to Ed.

Ed stared at it for several seconds, his brow furrowed. Then he passed it back.

"Creepy huh?" Winry said, showing it to Al, who nodded.

Ed shrugged. "Not really – you're the one on the left."

Every occupant in the room gaped at him.

"Well, am I right?"

"Yes," Winry blurted, "You're right, but...but how did you know?"

Ed smirked and refused to say.

**oooooooo**

Dinner was a comfortable affair, and afterward Ed insisted that she at least spend the night with them. While Winry found the suggestion out of character, she wasn't about to argue. Noah went to bed early, but Winry and the Elric brothers stayed up late into the night, talking in soft, hushed tones.

Ed waited for Al to get tired and go to bed. He remembered how, when first dropped into this world, he'd made himself a vow that he would tell Winry he loved her if he ever saw her again. Well, he'd broken that promise, and Ed wasn't about to let this chance pass him by.

After all, who knew if he'd ever get another one?

So, he planned to stay up late talking with her and Al, then Al would get tired, leaving them both alone, and then he could...and then he could try to summon up the courage to tell her.

"Look at this, Winry," Al yawned, unfurling the plans for their rocket with more than a hint of pride.

Winry glanced at it, then said gently, "I don't know how to break it to you, Al...but that'll never get off the ground."

"We know it won't, that's why we're looking for a rocket expert-Wait a minute!" Al cut himself off. "How did you know it wouldn't fly?"

Winry rolled her eyes, "Look, the rocket is too top-heavy for the fuel. You have enough, but it needs to travel too far – it loses crucial energy. But, if you re-route the fuel supply, it can connect with the generator here-" Winry pointed to the parts in question, "-and then you'd need to do a quick re-wiring to reconnect the thrusters to the main generator, as this auxiliary fan won't give you nearly enough power-"

"Stop right there!" Ed held up his hand in protest. "How do you know this stuff?"

"I studied automail."

"Yeah, but that was mechanical limbs, not rockets."

"You need to know the same things," Winry shrugged. "Making automail is essentially rocket science, in that you have to understand balances of wiring with weight, strength with leverage, those kind of things. You need extensive knowledge of physics, and this is essentially the same principal."

Both Elric brothers were looking at her with new respect on their faces.

"Hey, Winry," Ed began, "You wouldn't be looking for a job, would you?"

He hadn't really expected an answer, and was astonished when Winry grinned. "Where do I sign up?"

"But...what about your acting?"

Winry snorted. "That just pays the bills – it's not my passion. I tried so hard to get a job as a mechanic, but this world has a funny attitude towards women."

Ed nodded, his eyes sympathetic. Al looked between the two of them, sensing a certain tension in the air.

"You know," he began, trying to sound sleepy. "I'm really tired, so I'll go to bed now – goodnight!"

He dashed off to his room before anyone could call his bluff.

Winry blinked. "That was rather...abrupt."

"Yeah," Ed muttered, his mind elsewhere. _'Okay, this is it, you can do this...you can do this...'_

"Winry...?"

"Yeah?"

Ed took a deep breath, trying to stop his palms sweating. _'Come on...'_

"When I first came here, I...uh, I made myself a promise that I...that I'd..." his gaze remained fixed on the floor while he stammered, feeling a blush rising in his face. _'Goddamn it, I'm twenty years old! Why am I suddenly acting like an embarrassed pre-teen?'_

Winry didn't say a word, telling herself that whatever Ed wanted to say, it was obviously difficult enough without her cajoling him.

"Anyway, I...I'd promised myself that the next time I saw you...when I saw you, I'd...I'd..." his voice had been getting progressively softer and softer, until he finished in a whisper, "I'd tell you I loved you."

For a moment, Winry wondered if she was hallucinating. Her mouth opened to return the sentiment, but no words came out.

Ed sneaked a look at her out of the corner of his eye. She was looking utterly shocked, and he wasn't sure if this was a good sign or a bad one. Out of sheer desperation, he stepped forward and hugged her, even as he kept talking.

"And I know I blew that promise when I came back and then left again, but I didn't intend to, I swear, and now that you're here, I just thought...just thought you ought to know," he finished lamely.

He felt the shift in Winry's stance as she prepared to speak. Terrified that she was going to reject him, Ed cut her off. "Don't talk, not yet. I promise you can hit me all you want later, just don't talk yet."

A pause. "What if it's to say 'I love you too'?"

Ed blinked, resisting the urge to clean out his ears. He'd heard that right, hadn't he? "Well..I guess that could work," he said, half-stunned.

He looked as shocked as she felt, and Winry couldn't hold back a grin. "I love you too, Ed."

"Oh...good," Ed said, still dazed.

"Very good," Winry agreed, snuggling into him.

Silence. Then Winry asked, "So..what happens now?"

Ed pondered for a few seconds. "Not too sure. I think we...date...or something..."

He sounded so unsure Winry couldn't resist teasing him a little, "Actually, I think in this world, we get married."

She'd meant it as a joke, but Ed seemed to contemplate the idea seriously for several moments. "I guess that works too," he nodded.

Winry gaped. "You're serious?"

"Yeah...weren't you?"

"I...I..."

"Never mind," Ed said airily. "We'll figure it out later."

He was starting to grin broadly. Winry recognised that grin – it was the same one Roy had been sporting at his wedding to Liza.

"Hold up a second, Ed, I don't think you want to marry me."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, I'm hunting for a job that lets me stay in one place – and if your offer still stands, I'll gladly take it – but that's mainly so I can take care of Eddie-"

"So?"

Winry thought her eyes would pop out any second. "Ed..." she said weakly, "You've never even met him. And raising a kid isn't exactly a walk in the park..."

"A burden shared is a burden halved," he said philosophically. "Though we shouldn't really call the kid a burden – that leads to emotional trauma, or so I'm told."

"Are you saying that you're...you're willing...to adopt Eddie with me?" Winry was almost certain now that she'd taken a blow to the head and this was some sort of hallucination.

"Why not? I love you, you know."

"That's it! Who are you and what have you done with Edward Elric?"

"Very funny, Winry," he huffed. "You're not the only one who's done some growing up."

Winry shook her head. "Forget it – let's talk about it later."

"Good idea," Ed smiled.

While Winry was still worrying about how all this was going to work out, she decided to put it behind her for now. After all, she loved Ed, and he loved her...they could work it all out from there.

"By the way Ed, I read your journal," Winry admitted, feeling a need to lighten the mood.

"Really? Learn anything interesting?"

"No," she whined. "It was written in code! All I managed to figure out was that my name meant something to do with automail-"

"Actually, you'd be wrong there," Ed corrected, a faint blush tinging his cheeks.

"Huh?" Winry's curiosity was piqued. "So...what was it? What did my name mean?"

Ed smiled softly. "Home."


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Come on, Auntie Win," Eddie cajoled, "Give me a piggyback ride!"

Winry groaned, leaning back against the park bench, utterly exhausted. "Not now, Eddie, I'm tired."

"Oh..." Eddie seemed to think for several moments. "That's 'cause you've got a baby in you, right? That's what Uncle Ed said when I asked him."

Winry grinned. "Uncle Ed's right on the money."

"Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

"I once asked Auntie Liza about having babies, and she said it hurt."

It had been five years since Ed and Winry married. In the third year of their marriage, Roy and Liza had their first child – a small, dark-haired boy, named James in honour of the kind manager of The Songbird.

And now, Winry herself was verging into the ninth month of her first pregnancy.

"Carrying the babies doesn't really hurt – it only hurts when they come out."

Eddie's eyes widened. "But how does the baby come out? Does the doctor cut it out?"

Winry scrambled frantically for some way to explain this to a ten year old. Ed was talking with Liza and Roy, and she caught his eyes, mouthing _'Help me'_.

Ed came over to the pair on the bench swiftly, grinning down at his wife and adopted son. "Hey, Eddie, I know for a fact that Uncle Roy has sweets in his pocket."

At the mention of sweets, Eddie's eyes lit up, and he practically bolted across the park towards the couple and their child.

"Ed," Winry chided, "The idea was for _you_ to entertain him, not goad him into bothering Roy."

Ed shrugged, sitting beside Winry and throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Couldn't have him bothering the pregnant lady, could I?"

Winry mock-glared at him. "This," she said, gesturing to her swollen stomach, "Is all your fault, you know."

"Hey don't blame me, blame a world with unreliable contraceptives."

"Yeah, no contraceptives at all!"

"That's what makes them unreliable."

Winry giggled in spite of herself, and snuggled into him. She was just starting to doze when she was startled awake by the feel of Ed's hand on her distended belly.

"Wha...?"

"Shhh," Ed hushed her, bending his head down to the protrusion that was their child. "We're having a moment here."

Ed cocked his head as though listening intently. "What's that you say? Your Mummy's very beautiful? I couldn't agree more."

He looked up at Winry, who was trying not to blush. "I think we've got a very smart baby here."

"If you say so," she snorted.

"Hey, you feel that? The baby kicked!"

Winry grinned. Even though Ed had taken easily to Eddie, she'd been a little nervous about his reaction when she found she was pregnant. A young child was one thing – a newborn baby was quite another.

But she needn't have worried. Ed had been thrilled, and was still thrilled.

"Just can't get over it," he mumbled, still caressing her abdomen. "That's our kid! Our kid is growing inside you!"

"Not to mention, Eddie seems really happy about the prospect of a younger sibling to play with," Winry pointed out. "But I'm still a little nervous."

"What about?" Ed asked. "We did alright with our first kid, we'll do fine with the second."

For some reason, Winry always melted when Ed referred to Eddie as their kid.

"I guess you're right," Winry sighed. "We'll do fine."

**oooooooo**

Wendy Elric was born three weeks later, a beautiful blonde baby with Winry's eyes. She and Eddie's younger brother, Joseph, was born two years later.

Roy and Liza had a total of five children; James, Clara, Sarah, Chris, and May.

Alphonse married six years after Ed and Winry were betrothed, and had children of his own.

**oooooooo**

"Grandpa! Grandpa!"

Ed stirred, hearing a trio of voices calling for him. He cocked his head, trying to coax his failing hearing into identifying those voices – yes, that was Joseph's set of offspring. He sank into a chair, grimacing at the creaking in his bones, idly fiddling with a picture of he and Alphonse.

"I think we have guests," he called into the depths of the house.

"Already?" Winry called back.

The door opened, and their grandchildren piled into the house. "Grandpa!" And as Winry came in, "Grandma!"

Both adults laughed as they sat down and their grandchildren piled into their laps. Ed could never quite get over how much they looked like he, Al, and Winry. They were their exact replicas.

If he believed in fate, he would have said something about coming full circle.

"You'll never guess what happened on the way here!"

"We probably won't guess, so why don't you tell us?" Winry pointed out.

Ed kissed her on the cheek swiftly, prompting a chorus of "Gross!" from the children.

"Get off," Winry swatted at him. "They've got a story to tell. Go ahead," she told them.

So Winry and Ed sat comfortably in their chairs, with their grandchildren on their laps, telling them about the trouble they had getting to them.

And Winry couldn't help thinking, _'Maybe one day, your father will tell you something about the trouble I had finding Ed again.'_

**End.**

**oooooooo**

_AN: I didn't mention who Al married on purpose, because I can never really see an obvious pairing with him. But he really deserves a family, so I gave him one – we can say he married Noah. And that bit at the end was sort of an extended ending to the OAV._


End file.
